


Moving Day

by beyondinsane



Category: Law & Order: UK
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-23
Updated: 2009-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:16:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyondinsane/pseuds/beyondinsane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Word about the office is that James Steel needs some help moving. DS Devlin is on the job</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bamberrific](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Bamberrific).



It was about time. James Steel closed his eyes and signed the lease, locking away the part of himself that wanted to cling to the abstract notion that "she'll be back someday." She wasn't coming back, and there was no point in keeping a home sized for a growing family when his family had shrunk to precisely one member. In the large home, there were times he felt like he himself was shrinking, and after another weekend spend vigorously dusting furniture in rooms no one used, he resigned himself to looking for new living arrangements.

The flat was still decently proportioned, in a slightly marginal area, but close to work and still in the traditional style he preferred. He had looked at several horridly modern places; all twisted steel and sheet glass, before settling on his new home. Home. He remembered moving into his house, how he and his wife had joyously christened it. She had declared that it wasn't home till she had him in each of the rooms. The made love in the kitchen, on the living room sofa, and finally on the floor of the small room that would eventually become the nursery.

There would be no such festivities this time around.

Steel never talked about his personal life much, except with Alesha, who happily babbled about her new boyfriend at any opportunity - so much so that James felt at ease talking about his. Alesha had encouraged his move, and even promised to come round and help him move. James suspected it was a veiled attempt to gain his approval for her new boyfriend, though why she would seek his approval was beyond him. She was seeing a detective, much to DS Devlin's chagrin, James assumed. He had seen Matt Devlin eying up Alesha, who had deftly dodged Devlin's passes at her. Personally, he didn't understand why. DS Devlin was an up-and-commer in the force, and James couldn't remember when vice had anyone more attractive - male or female.

Word traveled fast, and it wasn't long before volunteers started coming out of the woodwork. Mary, George's secretary, had offered to bring 'round some sandwiches and lemonade, and before long it was a regular to-do, on the office calendar and everything. James was mortified, but couldn't think of a polite way to put everyone off, especially when they were being so helpful. So he carefully packed most of his possessions into nondescript boxes and awaited moving day with a mix of sadness and annoyance.

It was an ordinary Friday, other than that it was the day before his big move. James left his office (a bit early, for once) and silently chuckled at the site of the general workplace. Every set of female eyes (and two or three sets of male ones, James noted) was peering over their cubicles at the man leaning over Mary's abandoned desk and peering at the calender. Apparently he was not the only one leaving early, as Mary was no where to be found. James could see the reason for their stares. Matt Devlin cut an impressive figure. His trousers looked like they had been tailored just for him, and the striped shirt he wore made his long, well muscled back look even longer.

Even James had to admit it was quite a sight, though his tastes had not run towards males for years now. In college, sure, but that was college. Everyone experiments. The sight of Matt Devlin leaning slightly forward over a desk brought back the memory of those experiments with quite a force.

"Can I help you, Detective?" James asked, his resonant voice causing Matt to jump.

"Caught me a bit flat footed, there, Steel."

"My apologies."

"No worries. Was looking for you at any rate." Matt shifted his weight and tucked his hands in his pockets, looking at ease with half the office employees gazing at him. James could swear he even winked at one of the ladies.

"How may I be of assistance?"

"Words' round at vice that you've moving onto my street. Thought maybe you could use some help."

At this, James thought he heard several women titter a bit. The idea of Matt Devlin lifting boxes and furniture in the hot summer sun was apparently a crowd pleaser.

"I'd certainly appreciate it. Mary's bringing a light lunch so come hungry."

"Always am, mate. I'll bring Ronnie round too, not that he'll be much use but maybe he'll give us all sage advice." Matt's grin was infectious, and James found himself returning it. Matt's eyes seemed to reflect the blue shirt he was wearing; James had noticed that he favoured the colour. In fact, the man's wardrobe seemed to be populated entirely with blues, greens, and light violets. Or so the endless water cooler chatter had informed him.

"See you at half ten, then?" James asked.

"Don't be daft. We'll never get you out in one day if we don't start till half ten. See you at half seven. Have coffee, yeah?"

"That's awfully early, I would hate to inconvenience you."

"I'll 'ave one less pint tonight. Less you meet me at McGovern's later, in which case I'll have one extra and arrive much earlier, yeah?"

James almost dropped his briefcase. Was the junior detective flirting with him? In front of half the CPS office staff? He shock must have been evident, because Matt started laughing.

"Just a bit of fun, James. Don't go picking out an evening gown. See you at half seven."

And with that, the detective strode out the double doors with all the confidence of a golden-age movie star. Steel realized that he had been leaving too, and followed, responding to several "See you tomorrow's" as he walked by various desks. He idly wondered how many of his staff would show up at half seven, just to see Matt Devlin at work.

James did go to McGovern's, late, just in case Matt hadn't been kidding. But apparently the young detective had been as good as his word and had gone to bed early. James followed Devlin's apparent lead, having only one scotch before heading home.

***

  
James rose early and set a pot of coffee on, having stopped at the shop on the way home to pick up the necessary provisions. He wasn't much of a coffee drinker but his wife had insisted on getting the appliance and had left it behind.

The last drop had just fallen when his bell sounded. He checked his watch. Not even half seven. He opened the door, and sure enough, it was Matt Devlin, in jeans and a Queen t-shirt. His hair was tucked beneath a bandanna, making him look much younger than he probably was, unless they let seventeen year old boys make detective now a days.

"Morning." Matt said brightly, skin radiant in the early sunlight. "Coffee?"

"How do you take it?" James said, standing aside so that he could enter.

"How ever you're giving it." Matt replied with a hint of a grin. "Cream if you've got it."

James stifled a laugh, unable to think for a moment that Matt meant his reply as a double entandre in spite of the cheeky grin on the man's face. Surely no one would be that bold.

"Nice place you've got here." Matt strode into the living room, staring at the open space of the room, empty but for the boxes. It seemed vast and hollow without its trappings, and his voice rang, high and chirpy, off the ceiling. "Sure you won't regret a move to the slum?"

"Hardly a slum. You live there, after all." James handed him a mug of coffee, slightly creamed. Their fingers brushed as it was exchanged. If Matt noticed, he didn't seem to respond.

"Cheers." He took a sip. "That's precisely my point." Another sip, this one slower, and he noticeably relished it, his tongue darting from between his lips. "Good, this."

"I am sure if you can survive, I can too. Besides, this place..." Steel sighed heavily. "It's a bit too large for me, and I should move on."

"I'll have you round mine for tea sometime, yeah? Or that pint."

"I'd like that." Steel said, meeting Matt's eyes for what felt like, but couldn't possibly be, the first time. Their gazes locked and held each other, like two old friends chatting over drinks. Whatever conversation their eyes had, it must have been amusing, because Matt laughed softly, a low and liquid laugh. If Steel didn't know any better, he would have said it was a nervous laugh, but he didn't have time to evaluate it further, as the squeal of air brakes outside heralded the arrival of the rental truck.

***

It was lunch time, and James surveyed the scene. Mary had indeed brought a lunch spread, and they were gathered in the back garden of his new flat. There were a fair few office ladies, who had turned up just before lunch and were ostensibly there to set up his Kitchen, claiming that no man could do it properly. However, he saw why they were really there.

It was impossible not to see.

DS Devlin's biceps nearly burst the worn T-shirt as they strained to carry the end of James's antique sofa. Alesha's boyfriend, DS Lewis had the other end, and they chatted amicably as they hauled it through the front door. Perhaps Matt wasn't sore at him, after all. Either that, or perhaps it was just in his affable nature to move on once a prize had been snatched from beneath him.

As if reading his thoughts, Matt looked over to him and smiled.

"Where do you want it, gov?" He chirped, masking the strain of moving the furniture.

James indicated it's placement and tried hard not to admire the man's body as he bent to set the heavy sofa down. He straightened him self and stretched out his arms, making James's efforts all the more difficult. Again their eyes caught, and again Matt smiled. It was an arrogant smile, one that made James think that perhaps Matt was willing to concede Alesha because he had his eyes on something else.

***

Most of the crowd had gone home. Ronnie had dropped by, moved a few boxes, and taken most of the men with him down to the pub.

"Catch up with you later, mate." Devlin had waved them off, insisting that he move some of the boxes up to the attic for storage.

"Wouldn't want you to pull anything." He had said.

"I'm not that old." Steel protested.

"Didn't say that. Said I didn't want you to pull anything." Devlin disappeared into the attic again, dropping off his load and returning back down the rickety pull down staircase. Steel averted his eyes as he descended.

"That should be about it. 'Less there's anything else you want up there."

"I've got one more box, Matt, if it isn't too much trouble."

"Not at all." Matt pulled the bandanna from his hair and wiped his face, tucking it into his back pocket. The air was thick and hot, and dusty below the open attic scuttle. "It's gonna cost you though."

"Name your price."

"I'll take that pint we've been talking about."

James handed him the box, which he knew was full of his wedding photos, and went back to the kitchen to retrieve the beer. The kitchen was intuitively set up, thanks, he knew, to Alesha who had supervised, so a pint glass wasn't hard to find.  
Upon his return, Matt was perched on the second step pull-down, leaning back against the treads. At his incline, his body was on full display. The jeans clung to his legs, and the t-shirt was just damp enough to stick to his skin, just barely concealing the well muscled chest beneath it. Matt ran a hand through his hair before holding his hand out for the drink.

James walked closer, closer than was probably necessary, and held it out. Their fingers brushed again, but this time Matt held perfectly still, prolonging the contact and mumbling "Cheers" softly, looking up at Steel from his perch as he relaxed back against the stair again. Steel made to walk away, but as Matt pressed the glass to his lips, his other hand reached out and took Steel's, holding him still as the amber liquid was drained from the glass into the bewitching mouth of Matt Devlin.

Why he didn't pull away, Steel could not say. It was maybe the mischevious light in Matt's eyes as he drank. It was perhaps the insistance of the hand that held his own. It could have been the sight of him, licking the last of the head from his thin lips that rooted his feet to the floor. Any of these things. All of them. Didn't matter because whatever magic they had on their own wove a powerful spell when combined.

"Thanks for the beer." Matt said, still holding his hand. Steel leaned against the bracing of the staircase, which was well and good, as the next thing Matt did was to pull his hand closer, closer, until Steel was lowered almost on top of him.

His mind raced to accept what was happening, but his body already had.

"Thanks for the help. You were brilliant."

"S'nothing. Glad I could help you break the place in." Devin said, resting James's hand on the tread next to his face.

"Is that what you're doing?" James's voice was low and even, and he knew what it sounded like. Knew because he had seen the faces of defendants grow pale when they heard him, as if they knew some damning evidence was about to be revealed.

"If you wish." Matt said simply, as if it didn't make a difference at all to him. Steel realised it probably didn't. A man like Matt could walk into any pub in London and have his pick of partners.

"And if I don't?" James asked.

"Then I'll go back to mine, and you can stay here and unpack your toiletries, and someday we'll have a drink and pretend this never happened. But I don't think we'll forget it. Wouldn't want to forget how you look right now, James, leaning over me as I lay against your attic stair." His free hand ran itself along James's side, his face a mask of gravity and want. "But I honestly don't think I'll have to try." He added, left side of his mouth pulling up into a little sideways grin.

Steel shifted his weight and leaned in a little closer, their mouths almost meeting.

"What makes you say that, detective?" Steel growled, needing to play prosecutor, needing all the facts before coming to a conclusion.

"Simple matter of observing the evidence at hand." His fingers had reached the waistband of James's trousers and roamed inward towards the button. James closed his eyes tight as Matt's fingers worked their way south, sliding just beneath the fabric that covered his zipper.

"Ahh." Matt "There you have it. Proof."

"Could be circumstantial." James argued, shivering a little as the other man's hand closed around him.

"Think you can make it home with what you've got?" Matt asked, eyes searching Steel's face as adeptly as his hands had searched out his prick.

Make it home. James mused, thinking again of his first day in is last house and mentally picturing christening this new one in a similar fashion. Every last room.

"It should hold up, even under intense scrutiny." James said, finally pressing his mouth to Matt's. He was rewarded with a soft tongue desperately seeking his own, and the hard press of Matt's erection against his own. The staircase creeked with their motions, protesting against its misuse.

"Bedroom, yeah?" Devlin managed to groan between Steel's lips. "Think I remember a bed."

"Bedroom's as good a place to start as any." James mused aloud, enjoying the surprise that played across his partner's eyes. "But if you really want to help me break the place in..."

Matt stifled his laugh, murmuring "Welcome home, James."

They kissed once more before rising from the stair and heading down the hallway to begin.


	2. Bits of Rough

Bedroom

Matt gasped, spreading his hand wide where it balanced against the wall. He had to fight to keep from thrusting hard into James' mouth, especially since James' hands were at his hips, sliding his jeans just a bit lower and pulling hard towards his face.

He lost the fight. Months and months of listening to the heaven that came out of that mouth, Matt finally knew the heaven inside it. As agile as the man's figurative tongue was, it's literal counterpart was its equal. Or, thought Matt as James pressed hard along his length, more than it's equal.

He rocked forward on his knees, knocking James' head into the headboard where the man leaned, each thrust like the bang of a gavel.

Living Room

James cast a wary eye toward the window, hoping that if the neighbors were home they hadn't seen him bend another naked man over the arm of the sofa. He hoped that the folks next door couldn't hear Matt scream obscenities as James pushed inside him, fucking that cocky little bastard till the leather sofa was all but slick with sweat. If they could hear, perhaps they would assume it was a movie. Perhaps they wouldn't look at him with raised eyebrows when he went out for the morning paper.

James didn't care if anyone saw that he leaned over and kissed that profane mouth, when he could get a kiss in edgewise. Somethings are too good to worry about modesty.

Kitchen

Matt leaned into the fridge, laughing as James wrapped a towel around his midsection.

"My god, man, I have windows you know."

"Don't you want your neighbors to be able to put a face to the name you've been screaming all evening?"

"It's not your face they can see hanging out the refrigerator door, Devlin."

"What have you got in here besides a bunch of cucumbers anyway?" Matt rooted around, looking for something he considered edible.

"Those are zuchinni." James said, rolling his eyes.

"Culinary." Matt stated, clearly not impressed.

"I'll order in." James said, flipping open the phone book.

"You're the best, sweetheart." Matt said, rewarding his lover with a deep kiss. The phone book was forgotten, as was dinner, when Matt sank to his knees in front of James, mouth hungry and need still unsatisfied.

 

Bathroom

Hot water slid down Matt's neck as James' lips worked their way up it. The man's hands, lathered with soap, caressed his chest and worked their way down to his hips. Following the natural lines of his body, James's hands moved towards Matt's prick where it stood tall against his lower stomach.

The world was white, soapy bliss, and Matt's eyes narrowed as James stroked him. He leaned back against James' shoulder, watching little rivers of water run down from his soaking blond hair to the smooth chest. Matt picket up his head and crushed his mouth against James's grin. It was the grin he always barely concealed after he emerged triumphant from court. No need to conceal it now, Matt surmised.

"On your knees, James. Turn and turn is fair play." Matt said, breaking there kiss and shooting him a fierce gaze. James knelt, as if to take him in his mouth, but Matt put a hand on his shoulder.

"I meant all fours, my learned friend." Matt's smile was sloppy and sideways as he pushed James' shoulder, hot water tap dancing against his back.


End file.
